


President Biden

by Dr_Joe_Biden



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c., chris chan - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Politics, Dark Comedy, Dementia, High Fantasy, Impregnation, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25105132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_Joe_Biden/pseuds/Dr_Joe_Biden
Summary: Joe Biden is finally president, but at what cost?
Relationships: Joe Biden/Ted Cruz
Comments: 5
Kudos: 10





	1. Musings and Nocturnes

Preface :

_ Joseph Robinette Biden Jr. was a jolly man about 80 years young. Even though the years were catching up to him you could still see the build of a former star football player hidden beneath his white collar and famously big suit. “Diamond Joe” they called him, because at any moment without warning he could call you fat and challenge you to a push-up contest, and with enough Adderall, he could beat you. In his younger days Biden became the youngest senator ever elected to Congress, representing the littlest great state of Delaware. Once in Congress Biden did incredible things with his close friend and fellow senator Strom Thurman. Together they worked on things like “The Mild Desegregation Act” that made sure the fountains that black people were allowed to drink from were labeled properly, making Joe Biden, at the time, the most progressive senator ever elected. But Biden didn’t stop after his friend and former KKK Grandwizard Strom Thurman died, he went on to create the Crime Bill of 1994 that started the War on Drugs and is the reason we have so many black people in prison where they can get proper rehabilitation treatment. Joe Biden had an incredible career in politics, having a hand in more policies that added to the sum total of human misery in America than any other politician of his era. And now, Joseph Robinette Biden Jr. is about to become the first black president of the United States of America. After three failed campaigns it is finally HIS time. Some may say his better years are behind him, but We The People know that they’ve only just begun.  _

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 1: Musings and Nocturnes

_ We open on a shot of the Oval White House Office. We see that surrounding it are thousands and thousands of people, some holding signs, others just cheering. All excited for the presidency of Joseph Robinette Biden Jr. Cut to a shot inside we see the Oval Office. The room is bare, you get the sense that Joe just moved in. The desk has a few messy papers on it, but what stands out are the bottles of alcohol. One standing upright on the desk, the other on the ground. Both empty. Cut to a shot of Biden himself, he’s looking at his reflection in the mirror. In the mirror we see a handsome, young smiling Joe. His shirt perfectly pressed, his tie on straight, and his million dollar smile lights up the room.  _

_ Cut to the mirror’s perspective and we see almost the complete opposite. An old man, nearly bald. One eye half open, the other one way too open. His shirt is wrinkled and not fully buttoned, his hands are tying nothing but air, as his tie is non-existent. Even his million dollar smile is crooked, with his smirk unable to fully form. His whole face has the characteristics of a man whose mind had left him long ago, his body but a shell operating on base instinct, led around and kept alive solely by his staff.  _

_ He turns around, we get the sense that he is going to greet his supporters outside. As he takes the first step forward, his wife appears behind him and puts her hands on his shoulder.  _

Dr. Jill Biden: Hi honey, what are you doing out of bed? You had us searching the entire White House trying to find you.

Joe Biden: I was geting redy to, to geting to go out and talk to my supporters! My beautiful  **young** supporters!

Dr. Jill Biden: You were getting ready in a broom closet?

_ Now the very room itself melts away, and the viewer finally sees the room as Jill sees it. Nothing but an empty closet. Joe realizes where he is too, he looks behind him to try and see the bathroom he was changing in, but sees absolutely nothing, not even a mirror.  _

Joe: I- wha- where did-?

Dr. Jill Biden: Oh sweetie… You must have been having a nightmare. C'mon, let's get you back to bed and forget this ever even happened, mkay? :)

_ Dr. Jill Biden begins leading Joe back to his bed, but he jerks away suddenly. _

Joe: No, Jill! I gotta talk uh, make an make a speech to the people! My supporters! I'm president now so I get to address the people!

_ Dr. Jill Biden thinks on how to stop him for a moment. And before Joe can get too close to the windows she has an idea. _

Dr. Jill Biden: Oh, dear, no… Those aren't your supporters.

Joe: They- they're not? Tharnt here to cumglagulart me on becoming the new p-presi-impregsident?

Dr. Jill Biden: No, pumpkin. They're angry, violent rioters. They're trump supporters, they're bernie bros. And they want to make you step down from being president.

Joe: Well then I'll- I'll talk to them! I convinced the American people to all unanimously vote for me, I can convince a couple Barney Bros.

_ Joe takes another few steps forward before Dr. Jill Biden stops him once again. _

Dr. Jill Biden: Joe,  **No** ! 

_ Joe stops immediately and fearfully turns to his wife, who puts her hands on his shoulders again. _

Dr. Jill Biden: I mean- Honeybunch, you're tired, you can't go outside right now.

Joe: I j- I just woke up, mack. I mean, I'm not the youngest knife in the crayon box anymore but I'm not like some old rooster wakin up before it's time- the chickens are- before the eggs are gooses, alright?

Dr. Jill Biden: But you were up so late last night, and the night before. Remember how you couldn't even give your inauguration speech?

Joe: But I- I… I wanted to give that speech…

Dr. Jill Biden: But you couldn't because you needed rest. Remember the American people need you right now, you have to be rested for them and only go outside when you're ready, okay darling?

Joe: I-... I-... I-....

_ Something then clicks in Joe Biden's brain, and he smiles his broken smile and says, _

Joe: Haha, you're right, Jill. You're always right about this kinda thing.

_ Joe then turns to his left and imagines he's talking to a staff member or supporter _

Joe: Let me tell you son, you should always wed someone smarter than you. So when you uh, your pants aren't on the right-the cor-t he way that's not too tight you have someone there too.. uh.. Loosen the collar. 

Dr. Jill Biden: Exactly, sweetums.

_ Dr. Jill Biden leads a smiling Joe back to his bed, tucks him in under seven blankets, and leaves. Cut to a few minutes later outside the White House where a black woman with a megaphone announces that President Biden is very busy and cannot make a speech today, but that Joe Biden has plans to send each and every person who came out today a thank you letter. And that he hopes you understand that he wants to get straight to work repairing America.  _

_ Cut back to Joe in bed. He's staring at the ceiling, unblinking. For a moment, fragments of his old mind return to him. _

Joe: I'm.. President. I'm President of the United States of America! Everything I've ever wanted I can- I- I- I- I-... 

_ As his "I-"'s fade into the distance, we hear a thumping noise, and a cold wind blows. We hear whispering in the distance. Voices in unison coming through. A quiet throb like a racist's heartbeat when he realizes he’s gone into the Asian Foods aisle. It’s voices speaking in unison, whispering three syllables. Their words begin distant and alien, but grow louder and louder every second.  _

_ We can hear them now, just barely able to make out the words. _

_ ma lar key _

_ ma lar key _

_ ma lar key _

_ The words are repeated rhythmically and with a passion. Things are strange and hazy to Joe now, he struggles to even understand how he feels or if the sounds he is hearing are real. He looks out the windows but sees only the haze of shifting sands. With every blink the world shifts. He knows he's looking at the Capitol Mall, and at Pennsylvania Avenue, but that's not what he sees. He blinks again and can see foreign embassies through the window. Future meetings are already bearing down in the dull throb of a migraine. He turns his gaze abruptly away from the window, and to a nearby yet infinitely far away shelf. He sees it. A single bottle of whiskey.  _

_ End. _


	2. Sonichu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet the Vice President of President Biden! The DNC would be foolish not to listen to this!

Chapter 2: Sonichu

_ Choosing the perfect vice president for Joe Biden was hard, and the lack of willing candidates meant the DNC definitely had their work cut out for them. In the wake of the Black Lives Matter protests and people's rejection of the DNC's symbolic gestures, they were afraid of nominating California's Top Cop - Kamala Harris. Amy Klobbercar said no. And Stacy Abrams was too much of a simp. That left only one option. The only person who is of every race, gender, and sexual orientation. All this while also being a member of the poor working class.The most diverse person ever. The vice president to Joseph Robinette Biden had to be and is: Christian Weston Chandler. Otherwise known as Chris Chan.  _

_ It was a gloomy Sunday on Pennsylvania Avenue. The raucous cheers of supporters had woken up Chris Chan from his midafternoon nap. He let out a deep sigh as he arose from within the covers of his bed. Moving from Cwcville, Virginia had been hard for Chris. He left behind his friends, his quiet life, and his beloved heart-sweet. But he knew that he had to answer to a higher calling now. At least he still had his closest friend Sonichu with him to help guide him and keep him on the straight path. When Chris hopped out of bed he accidently jostled his nightstand, causing his can of Orange Fanta to spill onto the crotch area his pajama pants, leaving a stain.  _

Chris-Chan: Oh come on!  _ sigh _ That'll leave uh- that's sure to- that'll most likely leave a nasty stain. 

_ Thinking about what to do, Chris decides to suck the stain out of his pants. After some struggle, he manages to bring his lips to the area of the stain, and begins sucking. This is the state he is in when a White House staffer opens the door. _

Staffer: Oh uhh, sorry sir, I should have knocked.

Chris, ceasing his sucking: Hm. Yeah. Yeah you probably should have. 

Staffer: Yes uh, I'm sorry about that.

Chris: Hm. Well uh, yeah how about, I don't know, you uh, heh, you make yourself useful and get me a stain-cleaning-remover type gizmo why dontcha? I can't go out and greet my loving supporters and fans lookin' like this now can I?

Staffer: … What do you mean, going out to greet the supporters?

Chris: Oh ya know, the big crowd outside that's been cheering for me all day? I don't wanna be rude and keep them waiting any longer. 

Staffer: … I've uh, been told to inform you that those people aren't supporters. 

Chris: Then who are they?

_ The nervous staffer quickly checks his notes on what to do if Chris Chan wants to go outside. _

Staffer: They're uh… Trolls?

Chris-Chan: TROLLS!?!

Staffer: ...yes?

Chris-Chan: UGH! Even in this dawgone far away place they still manage to find me! Well, I'll give them a piece of my mind or two or three or four, won't we Sonichu?

Staffer: Sonichu? Sir?

Chris-Chan: Yeah you know! The electric-hedgehog pokemon! We goinga- we're- we're gonna go rough up the baddies if you know what I mean.

_ Chris Chan leaves the room to look for Sonichu. _

Staffer: Okay I think that's fine, just uh, just don't go near any windows!

…

Staffer: When I signed up to be a White House Staff Member for the Biden Administration I'd thought I'd be doing great things, like helping the president come up with justifications for bombing Yemen again. But this? This is just babysitting! ...There's gotta be a way to liven things up around here. 

_ The lowly staffer thinks and thinks and thinks. He searches the deep recesses of his horrible democrat brain mindscape. Nothing seems to be working until he flashes back to images he saw from his favorite Sonic the Hedgehog porn site last night, the same website all DNC staffers frequent. And he gets an idea that will change the world. Now all he needs to do… Is find Joe Biden.  _

_ This lowly staffer had a name, a name that had to be known. And soon it would be. Soon, the entire world would know the name: Dog-Cock Jones.  _


	3. DC Jones Gets Bussy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DCJ's plan gets put in motion, and fruition too, probably.

Chapter 3: Dog-Cock Gets Busy

_ Walking down the hallowed halls of the Oval White House Office, Dog-Cock Jones passed by the many rooms now housing DNC experiments.  _

_ He passed the room where they were coming up with the idea for the perfect hip-new rapper. This rapper will be genetically modified to rap identical to Lin Manuel Miranda. His name will be Campus Culture, and what's in the sights of his "verbal gun"? That's right. The patriarchy. _

_ Next he passed by a room labeled "MKUltra 2." Here, the CIA was perfecting their brainwashing technique, not through LSD, but through the internet. More specifically, Twitter. #resist. _

_ And finally, he passed by the last room before Biden's nursery. The room with all of Jeffrey Epstein's clones. They're not doing anything too sus, just chillin, watching Woody Allen movies, using kids as furniture. Typical things. _

_ Thus he came upon a sleepy Joe Biden. Joe was in bed, clearly suffering from heat exhaustion from his many many blankets. Coupled with this he was also having one of his regular dementia attacks, mumbling something about "20,000 votes" and "Irish curse." Dog-Cock Jones approached the deeply ill man, about to put his plot in motion. _

Dog-Cock Jones: Uhhh… Mr. Biden?

Joe, jolting up suddenly: I DIDN'T DO IT!

Dog-Cock Jones: Excuse me, sir?

Joe, calming down: Oh uh. Sorry uh.. Uhm… Horse-Dick Daniel?

Dog-Cock Jones: Dog-Cock Jones, sir.

Joe: Oh right uh.. Of course. Your name. 

Dog-Cock Jones: That's correct.

…

…

…

Dog-Cock Jones: So sir, I came to-

Joe: Well why'd you come in here with all this.. Dang… Sassafras!?

Dog-Cock Jones: Sir I was-

Joe: HM!?

…

…

…

Joe: Sorry uh- … Sorry, mack. That was stupid of me.

Dog-Cock Jones: Yes. But that's not important now, sir! I come bearing terrible news!

Joe: EGADS! Is that Muhummad guy and his army of ISIL back!?

Dog-Cock Jones: Worse, I'm afraid, sir.

Joe: Oh.

Dog-Cock Jones: You're, and I'm sorry to say this sir, but you're… Pregnant. An impreg, the medical term is.

_ For Dog-Cock, the seconds that passed by while Joe tried to respond felt like hours. He knew if Joe didn't believe this, he would probably be fired. This really was the worst idea anyone could have had, and he went about it in the least convincing way possible. But he said it, and he knew there was no going back. Thankfully for Dog-Cock, Joe's grip on reality was more tenuous than he thought. _

Joe: I-.. Impregnant?

Dog-Cock Jones: That's uhh… Sure?

Joe: Well- heh, well, could you- now get a look of this. The first pregnant president. Heh. Guess no more whiskey for me, I'm drinking for two now, if you know what I mean.

_ Author's note: help me i've been writing this for 8 hours straight starting at 1am. i don't remember why i began writing this or what forces push me to continue writing this. my brain feels like it's leaking and i haven't blinked in so long. if you're reading this and i am no longer alive: change the world, my final message.  _

Dog-Cock Jones: Exciting news, sir! I can't remember what my motivation was for doing this, but I'm glad it worked out in my favor. ...i think.

Joe: Oh, Dorito-Dong Dave, I'm so happy I could deport a thousand more immigrant families without feeling guilty! 

Dog-Cock Jones: Happy to hear it. 

Joe: Yep! 

…

…

…

Dog-Cock Jones: ...okay i'm going to walk away now. I need to remember why I did this.

Joe: Wait! Half-Mast Mack, befor-uhh. Bee4 you euh-... You know back in uh, back in the day when men got pregnant it would be their wife's seed that got their goose in the microwave, if you know what I mean. But tell me uh, is it… Is the baby Dr. Jill Biden's?

Dog-Cock Jones: No it's uh… Ted Cruz's.

Joe: The Golden State Killer!?

Dog-Cock Jones: No the other one.

Joe: Oh. Well you know uh, I always say we should reach across the aisle more. Guess I just never imagined in this way. 

_ Dog-Cock Jones stares at Joe for a long time after he says that to him. Joe stares back and they lock eyes. Dog-Cock sees into the inner depths of the empty man remembered as Joe Biden. First he sees the blank void of happiness Joe has learned to project, but as they stare longer and the world around them fades away he sees deeper into Joe. He sees a profoundly sad and angry man. The kind of hollowness and regret only a man who has failed upward his entire life can have. And he can tell Joe is aware of this. He can tell that all Joe's life he has done nothing more than sycophantically chase his dream of becoming president, and now that he's done it it's like ashes in his mouth. Age has left him unable to enjoy being president, and no one around him even let's him pretend to be. In this state he is less than a puppet. Merely a body put behind the desk solely for image purposes. Free will is a term unknown to him. He knows he didn't win anything, and he knows he has no power or any real supporters. When he dies the DNC might not even announce it for months or years afterward. He is a man who served his purpose in life, and when he dies no one will mourn. For he is already dead.  _

_ A deep, guttural, seemingly infinite scream arises from within Dog-Cock. But before it gets out, he blinks, and is brought back to reality. He looks back at Joe's blank expression, staring back at him like an animal. Dog-Cock opens his mouth to say something, thinks better of it, and walks away. _

_ … _

Joe: I should think of names for the baby. :)


End file.
